


Velveteen Presents Polychrome vs. All the Fantasy Cliches in the Book

by magicasen



Category: Velveteen - Seanan McGuire
Genre: F/F, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-02 09:25:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2807570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicasen/pseuds/magicasen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>And now for something completely different! Join one light manipulator turned knight heroine in her quest to slay a dragon, save a princess, and have her happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Velveteen Presents Polychrome vs. All the Fantasy Cliches in the Book

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seimaisin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seimaisin/gifts).



> Thank you very much to LeaperSonata for the helpful beta!

Once upon a time, the ex-co-leader of The Super Patriots, West Coast Division, current-state-sanctioned-official-hero of Oregon, and always light manipulator with big eyes, bigger heart, and a penchant for the lovelier sex rolled over bed to open her eyes to the bright morning sunshine.

Yelena threw her legs over the side of the bed, striding over to the window for a better look. A picturesque scene greeted her. No clouds dotted the azure sky and the rolling green hills ran off into the horizon.

When she had went to bed last night, it had been the middle of November in Portland.

“Torrey, I've a feeling we're not in Oregon anymore,” she announced soundly, hands on her hips and chest puffed out.

Suddenly feeling a bit silly that Marketing's endless drills on the proper delivery of a punch line (the full package included the four P's – posture, pride, pomp, and projection) still had their hold on her, despite being free of their grasp for over a year, it took a few moments for Yelena to realize she had received no answer.

“Torrey?” Yelena asked, turning to the bed, one hand holding the elbow of her other arm loosely.

Well, she was most certainly far away from home. The bed she had left was a single, for one, and there were real feather bits poking out of the frayed corner of the pillow. Sconces with actual torches were affixed to the stone walls, dating the bedroom back far earlier than the seventies their townhouse was built during.

Speaking of their townhouse, there was no Torrey in sight. Apparently only Yelena had been taken along for this ride.

As for why her – she had to check if she had changed to match the setting, first. She scooted in front of the standing mirror to her side, and, well. Her attire looked like the archetypical vision of a “strong female character” where sex appeal still mattered more than practicality. She was dressed in a pleated armored mini-skirt, high boots that left a few eye-catching inches between hem and footwear bare, and half of a breastplate that left her midriff exposed. She squinted more closely at her chest, noting the odd curvature, and, oh, boob armor. Of course.

There was also a sheathed sword at her side, which sealed her narrative role.

A knight, huh? Yelena couldn't help but smile. Being molded into America's darling had long pigeonholed her into the princess role. It was nice to not have to play out stereotypes, so props to the reality manipulator on that front.

If she was a knight, then the first order of business was to find out who the other key players were in this game. Evil sorcerers, hidden treasures buried deep in a labyrinth of caves, corrupt kings...the possibilities were vast. But this was fiction, and that meant there was an end to be reached. The goal of her quest was the catalyst that would carve out the path she needed to take. The more quickly she knew where to go, the sooner she could be reunited with Torrey, and the less likely she would find half of Portland upended by a distraught Victory Anna hunting down the villain who kidnapped Polychrome.

If Yelena knew what she was doing then...it was time to make a stop at the tavern.

* * *

Within all things created, a piece of its creator remains. Heroes are no different, or, really, can be seen as a more extreme case to the rule. An elementalist's flames, a light manipulator's light – everything that is made external reality but born from within has been shaped by an internal reality. This especially holds true for heroes with a perception-based powerset, such as illusionists, reality manipulators, or dreamweavers.

For how personal their powers are, it often takes time and practice for these heroes' individual personalities to shine through. Fledgling reality manipulators are not known for creativity with their craft, much like procedural television script writers or fanfiction authors on a deadline. A world based off of a hodgepodge of vague fantasy or horror or sci-fi settings usually doesn't bode well for the skill level or experience of the practicing hero.

In reference to skill level, the data on these perception-based heroes shows there is an alarming trend that these heroes run an exponentially higher risk of insanity the more practiced they become. This applies both for the heroes themselves and for those who become embroiled in their worlds as the line between reality and fantasy blur. Stereotypes, tropes, cliches – all are good signs for someone who finds themselves trapped. It means there were rules and expectations, and that kind of sanity is what you cling to for dear life when flung far out of your element and trying to find a way home.

The academia has been largely in favor of these types of realities being unrefined and derived from inexperience. However, a new school of thought has emerged in recent years. Their working theory is simple if controversial. Essentially, the almost-universal familiarity of these worlds come not from a lack of creativity or practice, but from the hero's own mind imposing limitations on their creation. Cliches are cliches for a reason, so the mind uses that as an excuse to make certain unassailable rules, even though there are technically no confines in the creation of one's own world. The reasoning, then, is that these heroes' minds work in such a way as to preserve their sanity.

What does it mean, then, that these kinds of worlds have historically been treated as inferior and lesser? How does this correlate with the trend of reality manipulators going insane the longer they are in practice – which, it should be reminded, up until just under a year ago, most likely meant they operated under the watch of The Super Patriots, Inc.? In a post-Super Patriots, Inc. world, the superhero narrative they constructed continues to unravel the deeper the world digs. The results are enlightening, but in the way that makes far too many avert their eyes rather than face reality.

* * *

Yelena hefted her sword as she turned around and looked back. The village was long out of sight, and the innkeeper hadn't told her much about her destination besides the general direction.

He, and the other customers at the inn, however, had plenty to tell her about her quest. A single, lone tower in the countryside, that a beautiful princess inhabited.

“What's this princess like? Sharp-tongued? Strong-willed? ...Heavily-armed?” Yelena had asked, just to make sure, and had been met with blank looks.

“Fairest woman in the kingdom, and ripe for marriage, especially to anyone brave enough to come to her rescue,” an aging man with clothes in tatters and only two teeth left intact had informed her, looking her up and down with a raised eyebrow which made it clear what he meant. Yelena must have blushed until she was bright red, until she pulled herself together, concentrated on the relief that Torrey was safe back home. She stood up straight and told them that she already had a – 

“A-a liege,” she had sputtered before she could catch herself. “Someone to dedicate the rest of my life to!” They had nodded sagely and asked no further questions, which was well enough because Yelena felt about ready to sink into the floorboards. If her friends heard that – Jackie Frost was probably laughing her head off at her, and Torrey would probably kiss her. And well, that was the only part that mattered, really.

Well, anyway, Yelena had to give points to the reality manipulator for the lack of heteronormativity. The rest of the story was as by-the-book as the medieval fantasy section in their “The Basics of Realities, Universes, and Settings 101” had been.

The beautiful princess was, naturally, a caged princess, entrapped by a dragon. “Not like any kind of beast I e'er heard of,” a tipsy man had slammed his hand on the table and declared. “They say that it explodes fire. No warning at all, just – ” they had all jumped when he slammed his hand on the table again. “Flames everywhere, and nothing left but smoke and ashes.”

Yelena pulled her sword out of its sheath to examine it. It didn't look like it would do much to the type of dragon that, from the sound of it, would be more effectively fought at long-range. But she knew as well as any put through the trainee program that the sword would be needed to land the finishing blow, same as a silver bullet versus a werewolf or a wooden stake for a vampire.

Yelena shook her head. This wasn't the time to get nervous, stranded in an extradimensional space on her own. Sure, Yelena worked better with others. Team-ups were the bread-and-butter of any hero worth their salt. But it was more than just that. It never felt  _right,_ on her own. That was what had led her to go undercover, when she sought out Vel in Portland. Yelena had always known she worked best besides her friends.

And that was all she needed to begin moving again. A quest to find love? All Yelena needed to motivate her was the prospect to returning the people she'd loved all along.

When the outline of the tower had come into focus, Yelena drew her sword, waving her hand over the edge of the blade until it was infused with a soft glow. She would have taken to the air but that would, ironically, have made her a sitting duck. Instead, she made sure to keep her steps light and careful, ready to dodge or engage at the moment's notice.

That was the only reason she heard the distinct click.

“What the – ”

The ground exploded by her right foot. Yelena rolled into the air to save herself from the brunt of the impact, but she felt heat turning her skin raw. Her ears rang, and she could barely hear a shout over the tinny sound of the aftershock.

“Who goes there!? Name yourself, and I'll put into consideration whether this bullet really needs your name on it or not!”

“Hello!” Yelena called out without thinking. “I go by Polychrome! I'm here to save my princess!”

No shot came. She'd expected some type of loud cackling, until it occurred to her that dragons didn't really...cackle. Nor did they shoot things, or generally talk at all for the most part. And if they talked, they definitely did not sound like

– a petite woman dressed in enough Victorian steampunk to start her own museum collection. A distinct flame motif marked her dress, which was new, and that was all that occurred to Yelena before the metaphorical firebrand barreled into her at full-speed.

“Oh, _Pol!_ Oh darling, if I'd known you'd been taken here with me – !”

“Torrey,” Yelena gasped, but her next words were cut off by an enthusiastic kiss. Yelena gathered Torrey up in her arms, cursing the armor from preventing as much physical contact as she was used to. But that thought was quickly pushed to the back of her mind as she melted into the kiss.

Until Torrey curved her hand around Yelena's waist, and Yelena had to break away, hissing at the shock of pain.

“Lena? What's wrong, dear?” Torrey pulled back to take a closer look, and her eyes grew wide. “Oh.”

“Torrey – ”

Torrey howled and clutched her head. “I HURT YOU MY LOVE I HARMED YOU WHAT I HAVE I DONE THE LAST PERSON I WOULD LAY A HAND ON – ”

“Torrey!”

“OH EPONA WHAT HAVE I DONE I'M SO SORRY I – ”

“ _Torrey!_ ” And because that didn't help, Yelena took Torrey's face between her hands, cradling it. Torrey blinked quickly and Yelena let a thumb brush away the dampness. “I'm fine! I've gotten worse from cat burglars, really!”

Torrey stilled, and Yelena tried smiling gently at her. It looked like that was about to set off another round, but the other woman sniffed loudly before nodding. “You're not hurt nor offended?”

“To tell you the truth? I'm impressed. How'd you manage to make a land mine out here?”

“Ah!” Torrey perked up immediately, eyes brightening. “Well it was just a matter of finding a food supply. Oh, the vastness of possibilities you can create with what you can find with just the base necessities of life...” Torrey trailed off, sharing a secret smile with – herself, apparently. It made something inside Yelena grow warm, regardless, until –

Wait up, a food supply? “You've been foraging the whole time?” Yelena voiced aloud, and then it hit her. “That means... Torrey, were _you_ were the dragon?” 

Torrey pouted at her haughtily. “Lena, although anything you choose to call me is honey on the tongue, or perhaps a bit stronger, when you're wearing  _that_ outfit, I would ask that if you were to choose a term of endearment for me to please pick another. Dragons are a close relation to the snake, one of the foulest beasts around and a natural enemy of Epona.” 

“Oh no, it's just – ” Yelena couldn't help herself from breaking into giggles. “I know, I won't even call you that again. It's just – ” laughter overtook her again, and Torrey stared at her, lost – “Torrey, oh my god, Torrey.” She took a deep breath to stave off the next fit. “is there anyone else around here?”

“Ah.” Torrey nodded and tried smiling a little at Yelena, like maybe Yelena had become a bit unhinged. “There's a youngling in the tower. I suspect they may be the creator of this reality, but even when I used force to demand answers from them, they insisted that they couldn't bring me back yet. Oh, don't be so disapproving! I didn't harm them,” she huffed. “Just tested out some new explosives underneath the window of the tower, but they don't have the firepower to match the flare.”

Considering Torrey's definition of “force”, Yelena suddenly was unsurprised that she had been branded the dragon of this tale.

“Well, they weren't wrong. You always have to follow the rules of the story.” Yelena turned and squinted up at the lone window in the tower. “Wait here for me, Torrey?”

“They sounded harmless enough,” Torrey replied, “but I don't quite understand why I am unable to accompany you.”

“I'll just say it's like...a PR thing.”

Torrey wrinkled her nose in disgust before nodding quickly and decisively. “You go on ahead then.” As Yelena lifted up, Torrey called out. “I'll be waiting here for you!”

Yelena nodded before taking off, leaving an especially colorful rainbow of light in her trail to mark her arrival as she flew up to the window in the tower.

The person in the tower couldn't meet her eyes when Yelena landed on the floor. She was short and on the heavier side, and couldn't have been older than fifteen, sixteen. She was also wearing a gorgeous, shimmering gold dress. She fidgeted and looked up.

“I heard there's someone who's looking to be rescued,” Yelena began softly. “What's your name? Mine's Polychrome.”

“I'm sorry!” the girl blurted. “I shouldn't have done this. I've done this before, b-but not with anyone else here! Just me. I just wanted you to – I had all of your posters.” She was blushing. “I just heard the truth about you and Action Dude so I thought, hey, it couldn't be that much harm, but uh obviously it was really some gross abuse of my powers and – ” She bit her lip, suddenly looking ready to cry. “Stacey,” she finally said lamely.

“It's fine, Stacey,” Yelena said, and she meant it. Stacey nodded.

“I'll never do it again, it was really stupid of me to do it, I'm so dumb. I just. Uh, you were kind of my – and then the rumors that you confirmed, at that press conference back in June? And you were the reason in the first place I really knew I liked.” She darted her eyes away. “Girls,” she mumbled.

Yelena smiled even as she felt her chest clench, walked up to Stacey, and patted her on the hand. “Like I said, it's fine. All of it. There's nothing to be ashamed of.” She squeezed her hand. “You said you've been doing this for a while. Would you really deprive yourself of your powers just because you screwed up once? You know, I did that all the time when I was your age.”

Stacey hesitated visibly.

“Would you consider coming to the Super Patriots, to learn how to use your powers?” Yelena asked. She closed her eyes and took a breath. “There have been...issues in the past, but we're trying hard to change! You have powers, but you're still human. That's what we want to show you.”

Stacey was shaking her head, hard. Yelena dropped her voice and squeezed her fingers. “I know it's hard to go. It's kind of scary, and difficult, too. It's not as easy as waiting for someone to sweep you off your feet and love you. But, you know? This world you've created is beautiful.” This reality really was, once Yelena really thought about it. Her inner reality at sixteen could never have inspired so much cheer. “I can't say that this was the best way to go about it, but I'm glad you wanted to share it with me. And I hope that someday you'll be able to share it with everyone you want.”

Stacey shook a bit, and Yelena just had to bring her into a hug, then. “Thank you, Sparkle Bright,” Stacey mumbled into her shoulder, voice a bit high. “I won't do it again, I mean, without permission. I mean. And I'll get you and Victory Anna back to Portland as soon as I can.”

“One thing first.” Yelena stepped back, bent on one knee, and kissed Stacey's hand. “With that, my quest is over. The princess has been saved, and your tale is over.” She stood up and took a bow. “But if you'll excuse me, I still have a dragon to slay.”

Yelena somersaulted in the air as she flew out the window, diving down to the ground. Torrey yelped and clutched at her skirt as Yelena scooped her up, bridal style.

“Lena! What are you _doing!?”_

“I'm rescuing you, and then I'm taking you back home with me. Because you're _my_ princess,” Yelena told her, laughing while flying up. The light sparkled around them, like fireworks, and that was just the perfect moment for her to bring Torrey into a kiss.

And so, they lived happily ever after.


End file.
